Voir-Dire: To Speak the Truth
by lalunaticscribe
Summary: "They are the curses against Kalos's invaders, and the healers of the land. They do not terrorise. They remain according to their own rules... Do not strike a Combee hive if you cannot handle the Vespiquen within." -Marguerite Linden du Bois, Ph. D., L'École Normale Supérieure d'Illumis, on Fairy Tale Girls and Hex Maniacs. Sequel to Savoir-Faire. A Pokémon mystery.
1. Entrée en vigueur

_**Voir-Dire**_ _ **: To Speak the Truth**_

 _ **Sequel to**_ _ **Savoir-Faire**_ _ **: To Know and To Do**_ _ **.**_

 _ **An LLS Production**_

* * *

 **Prologue : Entrée en vigueur**

Rain cascaded down upon the Lavarre Nature Trail. The wings of the Vivillon that Théo Martin had been tracking flickered in the filtered sunlight. Cheerfully, the Backpacker held up his camera, carefully clicking the shutter before the Vivillon took to the skies.

" _Eh ben_ , a Jungle Pattern!" he pronounced with glee as the digital interface flashed to his picture. His eyes narrowed as the rain poured down, his focus upon the spread of the Vivillon's digital wings. "Hold on, this is a Garden Pattern- why is it holding a camera?"

He never saw it flying towards him; the jingle made his head lift up and the sharpened blades caught his eyelids. It struck with a jangle and inhuman fierceness, slashing his face into ribbons and scoring it with scratches. He screamed, gurgling as he tried to run from the metallic menace.

Locks shimmered into existence over him, clicking shut as he blinked through shredded eyelids and a giant teeth-filled mouth descended upon him.

 _Chomp_.

Then a flash went off, and yelling started in the distance.

* * *

Gilles Moreau had been just another Trainer with an unknown past moving to Lumiose City. Today, exactly eight years to the day that the Anistar native had moved, he found himself turned onto the floor by his Pokémon.

"Seriously?!" He yelled, leaping to his feet to meet the red gaze. "Sybil!"

 _I'm hungry._

"You have psychic powers," Gilles told her. "You're a freaking Meowstic!"

Her imperious gaze deepened. The tuft of blue hair on her scalp waved. _Make me food, peon. It tastes better from you._

"I'll start after…" he trailed off, staring at the clock. "Oh, come on! It's not even six yet! Guignol, get off the table!"

" _Ne, ne_!" Guignol complained. The Mime Jr. bounced from its position on Gilles' bedside table, knocking over the alarm clock as it began to ring.

The purple-haired man scowled as it rang, and rang, and made an angry motion with one hand as he turned on one heel, the Mime Jr. held carefully in his hand. "Azelf give me strength, fine."

The ensuing silence was broken only by the warbling of the baby Pokémon. Something of a fog must have descended, for Gilles found himself moving through the morning routine of feeding two Pokémon and tuning the Holo Caster to Kalos Radio. The boiling kettle on the stove further informed him that he was missing some parts of his morning routine when it was joined by Kalos Radio cutting off into the dial of an incoming call.

Gilles grimaced, pressing the receive option on the holographic screen. " _Allô_?"

" _Gilles_?"

He sat up at the feminine voice that floated through as the holographic image projected a pretty woman with hair cut like purple feathers cascading over her shoulders. The third most terrifying woman that had ever been present in his life was on the line, and he was going to be as alert as he had been back in Anistar. "Marie? I'm not due in today-"

" _Gilles, this is worth your overtime,_ " his boss at the Kalos Attorney's Office cut in with a glare. " _We got a case at_ _Mélancolie_ _Path_ _. Dead guy, face and body half-chewed. Chewing from we-don't-know was interrupted by a passing Ranger and a passer-by._ "

"Uh, it's barely six-"

" _The police arrested the passer-by. Someone asked for you by name and…_ " Marie paused. " _The people she represent are scary._ "

Gilles stopped for a moment. "Who's the client?"

" _Erm_ …" Marie paused as the screen swivelled, towards eyes of emerald set in a frame of ebony, the aristocratic youthfulness only emphasised by the shadows of her face.

" _Monsieur Moreau._ "

He swallowed. "Dr du Bois. Erm… you're my client?"

" _I am speaking on behalf of your future client as her guardian. You would have known the girl as Léa Morelle if not for my intervention._ "

"Morelle? You mean Bastiquois Cinq, _that_ Morelle?!" he demanded as the news sank in. "Madame du Bois, I cannot take this client, this is too risky. I specialise in cases involving the Tripartite, not Kiloude City's five families."

" _She was the passer-by_ ," Dr du Bois leant into the screen. " _I contacted you precisely because it was a Tripartite case. You must defend her, because she is being set up._ "

"I don't understand," Gilles spoke.

" _Come_ ," she entreated, albeit as an order. " _You will know then_."

Gilles stared as the screen winked out. He sighed, preparing a Thermos flask of Occa preparation. Guignol was tucked under one arm, and Sibyl combed her fur to walk demurely behind him as the ring of keys jangled.

 _What does she want?_

"A case involving the Maison de Morelle," Gilles shook his head, jangling the keys until they floated in the air above the palm of his hand. "And they want Lumiose City's only psychic attorney to defend the Morelle heiress."

* * *

 _ **I found myself circling**_ _ **Voir-Dire**_ _ **several times, especially its concept. Things got stale and terribly uninspiring. Since I have a fondness for mysteries, I decided to turn it into a murder-mystery, set in Lumiose. Most likely, the story would involve discussions of some aspects of Kalos, especially its pseudo-aristocratic culture.**_

 _ **Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!**_


	2. Intérêts civil

_**Voir Dire**_

* * *

 **Intérêts civil**

Gilles Moreau's apartment was his own property, bought with the entirety of his first cheque. It was located on Estival Avenue, next to the Lumiose Press, and leading northwards towards Centrico Plaza and the Mairie d'Illumis − the Lumiose City Hall. As he yawned on the walk towards the borders of the city, Lumiose was packing up her expended lights and readied to retire until the next night. The twinkling stars of the Prism Tower had winked out in the distance, leaving its silhouette as a marker against the brightening skies of dawn.

The City of Light was retiring for the briefest moment, and Gilles reflected on it as he queued at the Café Gallant on Estival Avenue for a more solid breakfast. on how it was on such a nice day that he had to work. It had also been a nice day, on the day that he had made the trek from Anistar to Dendemille to Lumiose for _le bac_ , and his subsequent education and permanent settlement, on top of his job.

"Oh, Gidie!" the big dark-skinned barista boomed, dusting floury hands on his linen apron behind the coffee machines belching steam. Under the wan lighting he loomed even larger. " _Bonjour, petit Sharpedo_. How is the little lawyer today?"

" _Bonjour_ , Arsène," Gilles nodded in reply. "What's good today?"

"The best for you, for free, _chéri_ _,_ " Arsène assured.

"Sounds biased," a woman behind Gilles commented.

"This man saved me from a murder charge," Arsène told her, eyes narrowing in a manner that indicated looming rage. "He gets free pastries."

The circles around his eyes deepened, and several other people in the queue stepped back, leaving the quivering woman to shake like an Oddish.

Gilles put his face in his hands. "I just pointed out to the Officer Jenny that you could not have possibly fit through the window she claimed was the point of entry. Arsène, what's good?"

Distracted, the proprietor studied the smaller man. " _Eh ben_ , you need feeding. The _chausson au Baie Grena_ is good today."

Floating up onto the counter, Sybil made a show of tapping her feet. _Bonjour, Arsène._

" _Bonjour, petite Mistigrix_ ," the man cheerfully greeted. "Are you taking care of him, Sybil? The little Sharpedo looks like he hasn't eaten in days."

"Oi!" Gilles protested.

 _You do look terrible_ , Sybil acknowledged, reading the menu. _A_ tarte au Baie Sitrus meringuée _for me_.

"Bien, madame, and an Oran Berry for the baby," Arsène greeted Guignol as the Mime Jr bounced about.

"Gee, thanks," Gilles yawned, studying his face in the reflection of the café's glass windows and deciding that the purple dandelion staring back at him needed a haircut.

Unfortunately, Coiffure Clips had yet to open today. Plus, he was being summoned on a prospective case. So he abandoned the thought for later.

"I need you to babysit again," Gilles explained. "Prospective client. I'm so sorry to cut into your time… again."

"Oh, it's not a problem," Arsène swept the counter with a trunk-like arm, hulking like a Conkeldurr to carry delicate-looking pastries into paper bags as the Mime Jr looked around. " _C'est encore toi et moi, petit clown!_ "

Gilles left behind the seventy Poké for his pastries before leaving the café with Sybil. A few moments later, swear words in Arsène's guttural accent could be heard reverberating about Estival Avenue in their wake.

 _He's going to put it on your reverse tab again_ , Sybil observed, nibbling her Sitrus meringue tart.

"Humph." Gilles was already attacking his breakfast. Having his speciality Lumiose Galette stolen by a passing Gogoat only needed to happen once before one got vigilant about food, after all.

The Pomeg Berry turnover safe in his mouth from passing Gogoat, and Sybil silenced with hers, he set out strolling across Centrico Plaza, through the Lumiose markets of Jaune Plaza, and through the gate for Route 16 on the Kalos map. Sybil followed along, eyes wary. Flocks of Murkrow flew high above the eternally fallow path of yellowed nature, and Gilles knew it was to indicate the sudden intrusion of human authorities in their territory.

"You know," Gilles commented some distance from the Fishing Shack, under a large Berry tree, "I didn't expect this to be a real murder case. And I just lost my breakfast."

The Berry tree and the area around it had been surrounded by yellow plastic tape. In the middle of the area lay the half-chewed body at the centre.

"Hey!" Gilles leapt about to spot an Officer Jenny approaching him. "This is a crime scene."

"Er, yes, I'm Gilles Moreau, Attorney at Law, here to represent Léa Morelle," Gilles nodded. "This is my partner, Sybil. May I ask where is my client?"

"Oh," Jenny sniffed, pointing towards the tree, which seemed to have become a temporary quarters. "She's over there."

Léa Morelle was a slightly gloomy-looking girl, with the dark eyes and hair common of the Morelle. Her knife-like ears stuck out on either side of her headband, and the full gloves she wore seemed too hot for the nice weather. Around her floated a Gourgeist, its ghostly energy mingling about to comfort its owner, and beside her stood a stoic-looking Golett. Then again, Golett were stoic by default, partly due to being animated robots in some views.

Under his façade of normality, Gilles flinched at the ghostly energy that dominated her. It was almost like facing Arsène, but in a different way. There was a valid reason to be afraid of the Pangoro half-breed barista; there was nothing about Léa Morelle that needed to be worrying, aside that she was possibly a Kiloude Mafia princess. Who was also possibly a Hex Maniac, and thus the worst thing short of Dr du Bois that could threaten a Psychic of Gilles' stature.

"Madame Morelle?" Gilles spoke up, drawing her attention. "I'm Gilles Moreau, and this is my partner, Sybil. We're here to defend you."

"Gilles?" Léa looked up from her seat. "Oh, yes! Dr du Bois said that you're my… attorney?"

"I am," Gilles fidgeted. "Have you given your statement?"

"No, I-" Léa paused. "I live around here, and I help Dr du Bois on her work. We were taking a walk through the Lost Hotel, and I let Citrouille wander ahead. Citrouille-"

"Wait," Gilles cut in, "who's Citrouille?"

"This is Citrouille, my Gourgeist," Léa introduced the waving floating Ghost, who grinned at a scowling Sybil. "I let Citrouille off for a bit, and Citrouille came back to report the t- thing. Dr du Bois and I found a Ranger, and we came across the thing in the midst of chewing that… man. Body."

She shuddered, her lips parting to sigh. "The Ranger called it in, and Dr du Bois insisted on this… thing. She called you in to be present, so I couldn't say anything."

"That's a good idea," Gilles nodded. "Even if you're innocent, you should call a lawyer when you're being interviewed by the police and not free to move. It would save a lot of trouble in the long run, and you'd also be playing your part as a responsible citizen as well. Speaking of which, I need to speak to your guardian."

"She went aside with a hat full of Lum Berries from the tree," Léa made a face as she pointed towards the far side of the cordoned crime scene.

Gilles forbore to mention his awe that anyone could eat in front of a half-chewed corpse, since the Officer Jenny's Litleo was doing the same thing beside its partner.

" _Merci_. Sybil would stay to assist you in this trying time," Gilles nodded to Sybil, who floated towards Léa as he made his own way towards the direction indicated, taking care to follow the trail marked by the line of plaques that marked evidence or traces thereof. It led to the side, under a large tree, and a presence that commanded both awe and terror.

Sheltered under the tree's shadow, The black-haired woman looked up from her boater that Léa had described as filled with Lum Berries, one of said green fruits. The purple-ribbon smock top matched with an aqua striped pleated skirt seemed to Gilles like a touch too formal for a walk, though the white knee socks, leading to aqua Mary Janes, made her legs stretch for miles. As she carelessly cracked open a Lum Berry, the pit slid into her hand, awash in the tart juice that dripped into the soil.

Slowly, the woman licked the juice off of her fingers, carefully biting into one Berry half. The other one she held up. "Here you go."

 _Many thanks, Marguerite._

Gilles looked up, and immediately wished that Sybil, or even Guignol, had his back when the Pokémon in the tree's branches. "A Darkrai?!"

Said Pitch-Black Pokémon delicately pinched the Lum Berry half, delicately licking it before crunching it down. _Bonjour to you too, Monsieur_.

Realising that the Darkrai was, in fact, better-mannered than him, Gilles shook his head. " _Bonjour_."

He looked at the woman. "Doctor du Bois."

Marguerite Linden du Bois, having chewed through her half of the divided Lum Berry, delicately licked her fingers clean of the juice. " _Bonjour, Monsieur._ "

"You know, today is my day off," Gilles commented.

"So it is, and you seemed to have taken your own sweet time getting here," was the arch observation. "You are necessary because of the corpse."

"Huh?" Gilles blinked, trying not to turn behind. "Who's he?"

"I do not know," was her reply, "but he did not deserve to be eaten by a Mawile."

"It was a Mawile?" Gilles perked up. "They usually don't eat people, and especially not in open areas."

"If you would study the tree, you would notice traces of Light Clay in the scratches," Dr du Bois pointed towards the Lum Berry tree.

"Light Clay?" Gilles echoed.

"You work with Pokémon," Dr du Bois sighed. "Surely you know what is a held item."

"Yeah, I know that," Gilles frowned. "And I also know that Light Clay in Kalos is obtainable only in Geosenge, by catching a Golett there, or mining it along the Menhir Trail- Oh," Gilles glanced back, towards the Golett. "I see."

"Yes," Dr du Bois nodded. "It would be a standard interview were Léa a normal Trainer, but Léa is not a normal Trainer, as you can see. Léa is… what she is."

"You mean, she's a Hex Maniac in training," Gilles clarified. "And any wrong move would involve her… teacher? Mistress? Family?"

Marguerite considered it. "Perhaps more. It is a lot to ask, but I know you know what it's like to be persecuted for what you are."

Gilles glanced up to the tree they were under, a stocky thing with weeping branches and leaves only, bearing no fruit save for the occasional Lum Berry. As he glanced, a Lum Berry snapped off of its stem and floated down to his feet. "I see. My usual hourly fee applies."

"Duly noted," Marguerite dismissed, snapping her fingers. "Cyprès, if you would please."

Gilles watched another Lum Berry flower where he had snapped it off. The trunk of the tree mysteriously grew a scowling face, at which he wisely decided to back away from the doctor and her hidden Trevenant.

Steeling his shoulders, Gilles walked back to Léa. Sybil was nowhere to be seen, a fact that Gilles chalked up to the Pokémon exploring the scene. "I'm taking this case. You can tell them to start the interview now."

Léa nodded uneasily, getting to her feet and drawing the attention of the uniformed officers beside the crime scene technicians. "Officers? This is Gilles Moreau. He's an attorney."

"Finally," a dour man with what seemed to be a permanent facial shadow walked up to them. He wore a white shirt and black chinos, leading to short boots that hid his socks."I'm Lieutenant Rémy Souci of the Lumiose Surêté. Thank you for your cooperation, Madame. Would you mind giving us your statement?"

"Y- Yes," Léa nodded. "I was walking with Doctor du Bois – she's over there – from our house in the Lavarre Nature Trail, and we walked through the Lost Hotel. We came out, and because Citrouille – my Gourgeist – was agitating to run about, I let her loose. She came back very quickly in Shadow Sneak to report a body being eaten, so Dr du Bois found one of the passing Rangers while I went ahead."

"I see," the Lieutenant nodded, dutifully scribbling everything down. "We'll have to get more details from Dr du Bois later, but I need to ask a few more questions. At what time did you leave the... house? Actually, where is this house?"

"The house is by the Roseli Berry tree at the west side of the Trail," Léa replied. "We left at... seven am."

"Quite an early walk," noted the captain.

"Dr du Bois is a walker," Léa agreed.

"I see," Rémy nodded. "Normally, it's impossible to cross the copse of trees between the Routes."

"We went into the city – Laverre City, I meant – and got into Brun Way from there, and then we entered the Lost Hotel for my research on Ghost-type Pokémon," Léa explained. "And to find a Rotom. We couldn't find one, because the Punks had descended on the Hotel and they were making a lot of noise."

"I hope for your success," Rémy demurred. "So, to clarify, you went through Laverre City to Brun Way, entered the Lost Hotel, and came out."

"Yes."

"The Lost Hotel is a hotbed for Punk Girls and Guys," Rémy noted.

"Right," Léa nodded, "so we fought out-"

"Excuse me?" Rémy blinked.

Léa stared back at him evenly. "We got challenged, and we fought our way out. Durand – my Golett – hits hard."

"I... see..." Rémy did not look convinced. "Madame Morelle, we found traces of Light Clay on the victim's body. You caught your Golett at Menhir Trail in Geosenge, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"And your Golett, was he carrying a Light Clay with him then?"

Léa hesitated. "Yes? Yes, he was."

"Leading question," Gilles chipped in, earning a look from the Captain. "The Light Clay is not relevant to this. You're trying to pin this on my client without checking that Durand still has the Light Clay."

Rémy pursed his lips. "Does the Golett _still_ have the Light Clay?"

"No," Léa blinked. "I used it for eye shadow."

It was Gilles' turn to be surprised. "Huh?"

"I worked with the Coumarine Gym on the preparation of cosmetics from natural ingredients," Léa admitted shyly. "That includes using Light Clay for my eye shadow. I'm working with Tempera Illumis as an on-site cosmetician on the recommendation of Ramos."

"How interesting," Rémy said, in a way that implied that the fact was nothing interesting. "But is any of your Pokémon holding a Light Clay at present?"

"No, why would they?" Léa complained. "And what does this have to do with the investigation?"

"Calm down," Gilles assured. "I'm on your side."

"We're trying to investigate this, Madame, and you were the first person on the scene," Rémy nodded in a placating manner. "Do you need some water?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Léa subsided. "Who is he, anyway?"

"His name is Théo Martin," Rémy stared at her. Gilles would have done the same thing, but he already knew that she was not lying, had not reason to lie, and was honestly perplexed about someone dying, though hardly unsurprised.

"...Ah," Léa said. "He does nature photography, right?"

"Yes," replied the Lieutenant, "though it's interesting how you know that."

"His work, _Les Motifs des_ _Prismillons_ , is the research basis for Tempera's contribution to Lumiose City's spring collection," Léa explained. "He's a known Vivillon enthusiast and photographer."

"Alright..." Gilles nodded, slowly growing more confused. "You don't know him personally."

"Nope," Léa quipped.

"That's even more interesting, Madame," Rémy answered. "Thank you."

Gilles saw the officers walk away and leaving his clients behind, feeling, perhaps, a touch left out of the loop. As the officers passed, Sybil floated by them towards Gilles.

"Sybil," Gilles asked. "Did you check the victim's possessions?"

 _Yes._

"Was there a camera?"

 _No. The officers I passed by said something about no film or memory cards either. The Holo Caster was also missing._

"Which would not be strange if the guy took so many photos that he resorted to his Holo Caster in the end," Gilles nodded. "Who the hell would want to steal Vivillon photos anyway?"

* * *

 _ **Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!**_


	3. Plainte

_**Voir-Dire**_

* * *

 **2 : Plainte**

The work of the day having been done, Gilles pondered between picking up Guignol and wandering about Lumiose. The reminder of Arsène's heartfelt pseudo-threats, though, made him walk down to the Coiffure Clips. Gilles found himself in front of a blonde stylist giving him an assessing look.

" _Bienvenue à Détente et Beauté, Monsieur. Que puis-je faire pour vous aujourd'hui?_ "

" _Une coupe mi-longs bouclés, pas besoin de coloration._ " Gilles then switched to Standard. "And there's no need for a performance."

" _Bien sûr, monsieur._ " The stylist smirked as she led him to a barber's chair and had Sybil sit next to him.

"This is Sybil, she'll just be watching. If you don't mind."

"It is alright, if you don't mind our trainee stylist doing your hair," the stylist replied in Standard.

" _D'accord_ _._ "

" _Très bien, monsieur. S'il vous plaît._ " She walked to the back, leaving Gilles to peruse a selection of books and novels. A well-worn copy of _Du côté de chez Swanna_ floated down from the shelf and was being thumbed through before Gilles was aware of Sybil's psychic ping and the scrap-scrap of blades being sharpened out of sight.

"Ah, yes," the stylist commented dryly as she returned to the main store and saw Gilles sitting very straight in his chair. " _Tout son corps est fait de lames pour le rasage, le Scalpion._ "

 _I am Dunsany, monsieur, and I will be your stylist today. Try not to move too much._

Gilles relaxed. "Oh, you're… the trainee. Thanks."

The Pawniard with the developed communication abilities preparing to shave him nodded. _You're… quite welcome. Do you want a shave as well?_

"If you can."

Gilles remained still, not even flipping pages… at least, until boredom got him. "Do you have _Les Motifs des Prismillons_ here?"

Hmm?

"It's a photo album of Vivillon patterns," Gilles explained. "I'm investigating a case involving the author of that book."

Steel clashing against a tiled floor resounded, and Gilles was very aware that a small stepladder was now being pulled up to behind him. _I see. Is this anything to do with Capo's minions agitating about this morning?_

"Capo?" Gilles echoed.

 _The Honchkrow Boss. His minions are the Murkrow._

"The idea of a Pokémon crime cartel right outside Lumiose is creepy," Gilles rebutted with a shudder. "But I thought Honchkrow couldn't exist naturally. They need a Dusk Stone to evolve, right?"

 _From what I understand, Capo had an agreement with a working Lucario and his Trainer in the Lavarre Nature Trail. In exchange for his becoming the Honchkrow Boss, the Trainer gets protection._

 _That's actually quite smart,_ Sybil added. _Of course, that depends on no other Murkrow picking up on such a method. Or on the Honchkrow not removing her from the equation._

"No, the Trainer is Marguerite Linden du Bois," Gilles dryly replied. "If Professor Moriarty existed he would be the only anthro-Pokémon sociology professor in Kalos, and female."

 _Such a personality might be straddling the law_ , Sybil noted. _Perhaps Martin saw something of the doctor's, and he was caught._

Gilles focused his thoughts, aware that only Sybil − and perhaps Dunsany − would be able to hear him: _The Klefki was holding Light Clay, which implies that it has both Light Screen and Reflect, both of which are Technical Machine moves. Plus, when was the last time you heard of a Klefki assault not involving stolen keys? Martin's keys are all accounted for._

Sybil nodded in silent acknowledgement. _There is that._

"I'm not a detective," Gilles spoke out loud, quietly as Dunsany began work on shaving the nape of his neck. "Our job is to prove that the Light Clay has nothing to do with Mademoiselle Morelle or Dr du Bois, and to advocate for Mademoiselle Morelle."

 _And done_ , Dunsany finished with a swipe of his bladed hand, holding up a mirror delicately to show Gilles the reflection of his completed haircut, perhaps also ironically signalling the end of Gilles' list of responsibilities. _Now, let us discuss the fee._

* * *

Sauntering across the quadrangle of the Université Illumis-Septentrionale campus were two figures. One, a Darkrai, was carrying books that fit between his claws and the ridge of his neck. The other, a human woman with short dark hair, was carrying another stack of papers. Students and staff alike scattered before them, and more than one student prepared to take out a Holo Caster until a green-eyed glare from the woman made them reconsider.

Until someone stopped them. "Marguerite Linden du Bois?"

The dark-haired Trainer of the Darkrai stopped walking. Beside her hovered the Sinnoan legend. "Do you need something?"

"I am Melisse Mélèze," the dark-skinned girl with white-blonde hair replied, blank whitened eyes focused on the professor. Both women ignored the various whistles and appreciative looks of several students about, who were mainly ogling Melisse's scarlet dress, which was sheer enough to possibly qualify as public indecency, hidden only by a sheer white scarf. "Lady Adeline de Mandragora sent me."

"Come along, then." Marguerite started walking, and Melisse followed behind her. "If this is about Léa, I've hired a lawyer for her. She will not be accused, even without pulling out her title. The Duchess Mandragora need not trouble herself with a distant relation."

"Théo Martin is insignificant in the current scheme of things," Melisse dismissed as she followed Marguerite into an office, which was locked by Darkrai. "As you might understand, Lady Adeline is one of many who wish to restore the Jardin Throne."

"That's not exactly a popular move," Marguerite noted.

"Popularity, madame, is not important. Power is." Melisse smiled. The temperature seemed to drop as her pink lips stretched her face. "Power must be concentrated in the right hands in order for Kalos to recover from its current chaos."

"That is an interesting perspective which I do not quite share." Marguerite set down her papers on her desk. "Do you have any other concerns, Madame Mélèze?"

"In fact, yes." White eyes never left Marguerite. "We believe that a Fairy Tale Girl is behind the murder of Théo Martin."

Marguerite looked at her once more, now fully focused. "...who are you?"

"I represent the Maison de Millepertuis, in alliance with the Duchess Mandragora." Melisse evenly replied. "We are looking for the chosen one crowned by Yveltal."

Marguerite was expressionless. "You are looking for the Champion?"

"Daisy Linden was lost after Team Flare's last stand," Melisse nodded. "As Jeanne d'Arc was blessed by Xerneas to enrich Kalos, Daisy Linden must have received some gift upon meeting the Legends of Kalos once more. Even meeting the legends might cause some great change that would shake the world."

"But that does not pertain to everyday life," Marguerite observed. "Or to Théo Martin."

Melisse gave an ingratiating smile. "Maîtresse Linden, or du Bois, you cannot hide from your grandmother the Duchess. Nor can you hide very long from the Raiponce, or the Millepertuis, without consequence. The Raiponce know where you are, and they were surveying you. Martin was... an unfortunate casualty."

"And you know this," said Marguerite, "because you were there as well."

"The rain is good for my skin," Melisse agreed. "Whatever the Sûreté might think, the peerage of Kalos is still rather murky, especially from the Raiponce."

"You expect me to believe that the Fairy Tale Girls are after me?" Marguerite demanded.

"Their surveillance has been discovered," Melisse reasoned. "Lieutenant Souci is a little man, but the Captain he serves, Ancolie, will inform them soon. Then they will come for you, madame. Your only recourse is to join the Duchess, who only wishes for your safety."

"The same Duchess whose idea of safety involves empowering the defunct Garden Throne."

Melisse clicked her tongue. "Madame, you are Daisy Linden, who changed her name and escaped the public eye. You are the heiress of the Three Grand Ducal Houses of Kalos. With Fleur-de-lis dead and Madame Carnet as Champion and thus ineligible, you are the most eligible candidate to become queen. Champions and Gym Leaders come and go, but the Cent-Feuilles is eternal."

"I have no interest in subverting the government, madame."

"You stand fast?"

"Yes."

Melisse smiled. "You will change your mind. I am sure of it."

Marguerite waited until the door clicked shut before moving for her Holo Caster, typing the ten-digit number quickly.

"Monsieur Moreau, I need to talk to you."

* * *

 _ **Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!**_


	4. Circonstances mitigé

_**Voir-Dire**_

* * *

 **III : Circonstances mitigés**

Lumiose City was, according to several noted historians, the birthplace of the first coffee culture in the world.

Coming from an era when political gatherings against the Jardin Throne of Kalos were disrupted with fire, it was thought that having enough Occa Berries in an area would serve as a ward against fire and arson. This had led to the development of anti-monarchical tea-houses specialising in serving the brew, around the same time as the start of the Université d'Illumis around 1150. The spread of Occa Berries had been facilitated with the entry of Kiloude City into the then-Kingdom of Kalos, which served as a gateway to Dahara City and the Occa Berry trade.

The coffee culture of Lumiose had endured several wars, unrest, the Revolution of 1789, and the spread of Standard – _quel horreur!_ – with the rise of the Kanto model Pokémon League. It remained the centre of many a Kalosian social life, and Gilles Moreau was no exception. There were several famous cafés along Vernal Avenue alone; however, Gilles found himself approaching the Café Classe, apparently the centre of the Kalos region's clothes retail gossip.

Magazines, including _Pomme Dorée_ and _Les Merveilleuses,_ were laid out on a rack next to the long bar-top counter. Tables scattered around and outside of the upscale _salon de thé_ that Marguerite Linden du Bois had summoned him in were filled with the fashion scene of Lumiose City, if not Kalos itself. The neat trench coats and suits around made him feel slightly out of place, and the Pokémon looked like Sybil – well-groomed, cultured, perhaps even working independently. More than one Pokémon had become independently wealthy in the human economy, after all.

" _Ah, bienvenue_!" the bartender started. " _La semaine de la mode_ hasn't started yet, you know. It's about five months away, _mademoiselle_ ," he added to Sybil, who jumped up to the counter.

Now the location was understandable. Fashion week had not begun yet, thus the Café Classe was relatively deserted, on top of being within walking distance of the Sycamore Laboratory. " _Deux expresses, s'il vous plaît_ _._ "

" _T_ _able, monsieur?_ "

" _Oui. Madame du Bois viendra bientôt aussi._ "

The bartender had a strange look on his face. Gilles shrugged, choosing the table that was furthest from the epicentre of _la mode du Kalos_ and settled down to wait.

The woman that had summoned him breezed through the doors in a navy blue double-front coat dress and brown riding boots over black tights. A brown felt hat with a gold star pin was perched on her head, and a brown strappy purse swung from her left arm. Marguerite Linden du Bois drew a few looks as she sank across Sybil and Gilles, an icon of style amongst the urban elites even if she was not exactly wearing the latest Illumisian choices.

" _Bonjour, Sybil._ _Comment ça va, Gilles?_ " she nodded, dropping her purse as she stood back up.

The barista immediately rushed over, bearing a small plate with three cups of Occa Berry preparations, a tiny jug of milk, and a sliced cheese croissant. The plate was placed upon the table. " _C'est... comme d'habitude ?_ "

" _Oui, Donar. Merci._ "

The boy rushed off. Marguerite Linden du Bois cast a look at Gilles, pouring a dash of milk into her own cup before adding a packet of sugar from the cup of sachets on the table. "I have had the distinct displeasure of entertaining a Mademoiselle Mélèze today at my workplace."

"Oh," Gilles said. He looked at his own coffee. "I need to not drink chocolate for a bit."

"It's Occa Berry."

"Yes, and we're drinking it instead of using it in battle, but still," Gilles sighed. "Mélèze is a Jynx-morph. She works... _worked_ with my mother."

"I presume she is well?" Marguerite absently enquired.

"Dunno. She can't reach me in Lumiose. Too many Dark-types around the place." Gilles sighed, finally reaching for a tiny cup after setting one in front of his Meowstic. "So... Mélèze came to _you_. A professor of anthro-Pokémon sociology. About a case concerning a dead Vivillon photographer killed by a Klefki and a Mawile, on behalf of your Hex Maniac ward. The case which is right next to your house, more or less."

"As my former student, I applaud your assembly of the facts at hand as my work," was Marguerite's reply.

"I'll bite. Why did Mélèze come see you?"

"Orders from Adeline de Mandragora."

" _Sacré bleu_ ," Gilles swore. "The poor girl."

"I do not believe that Léa is the target. At least, not intentionally."

Gilles blinked at his former teacher. "You do realise, I have no idea what you're talking about. Unless... is your research dissing the Cent-Feuilles or something? You know how the old landed gentry are."

"Apparently so do you, since you know so much about them," Marguerite sniffed. "It is me, Gilles. I am sure of it."

"I'm listening. Why?"

"Adeline de Mandragora is my grandmother." Marguerite admitted quietly. "She sent Mélèze to tell me that a Fairy Tale Girl murdered the photographer."

"You're... I thought the Mandragora are strong in Couriway Town!" Gilles hissed quickly. "You're... a Mandragora? The heiress?"

"Yes. The Coque-lourde and Luzerne as well," Marguerite admitted miserably.

"You do know that that old lady's gaga for the end of the region, right?" Gilles hissed, sinking into his chair. "The Revolution might have happened, but that just meant that the _noblesse_ changed their titles. Those tiny little monarchies around Kanto, Johto, hell, even Hoenn, are going to take on a new significance to the Pokémon League."

"We _have_ discussed competing hegemonies of Trainer-certified power in class," Marguerite waspishly replied, but nodded, picking up the croissant and biting into it. She took a draft of her coffee and swallowed. "What _else_ do you remember from that module on Pokémon and Politics?"

Gilles blushed. "...lots of it. Mostly about that case of Hoopa prosecution."

"Relevant enough," Marguerite nodded. "I have argued, based on Professor Oak's monograph on the interaction of humans in Dragonite migration patterns, that the reason why our world enjoys things like blanket protection of human and Pokémon rights, unified currency and standardised rules of warfare, is largely because of the hegemony of the Pokémon League. In the absence of political entities having the force needed for warfare to be politicised, city-states agree to band together for more negotiating power on the global stage – hence the development of the region, a collective of sovereign city-states that don't actually have centralised power, and thus cannot enforce legislation beyond their walls. The Hoopa case, while minor, is an example for the complications of law enforcement and the challenges of it without localised central power, the kind that a unified sovereign entity such as a republic or a kingdom with the resources to monopolise violence, can fulfil."

"The cross-regional prosecution of criminal Pokémon aside," Marguerite spoke, "I do not wish to become the Queen of Kalos. My grandmother disagrees, and so do the Raiponce, apparently. Martin was an accident, and I'm fairly sure you can settle Léa's case without revealing what I just told you, Gilles. The next order of my business would be to leave Lumiose City for a bit. These are my legal instructions."

Gilles accepted the paper and the envelope that she slid across the table to him, holding the latter to the light. "A...?"

"A guarantee. I wired your retainer to your cabinet. Madame Châtaigner will send you a message about it."

Gilles nodded, looking at the slanted words. "...instructions. So you'll lie low, and I'll be doing all of your legwork."

"Donar is another student of mine," Marguerite looked at Gilles archly. "You may borrow him."

"That kid?" Gilles did a double-take at the black-haired barista. "He's young!"

"Eighteen. He also placed in the top ten at the Île-de-l'arc Conference. He will help you, since he knows that it's for my sake." Marguerite stuck out her bottom lip at Gilles, a surprisingly childish move for such a mature woman that, for a second, she looked like a young damsel. "You'll do it, right?"

Gilles swallowed. "You got the heiress of one of Kiloude City's Five Families as your ward, and you're also the heiress of the Three Great Ducal Houses. Better take Mademoiselle Morelle along too."

"I intend to. I will also arrange for a protector at Kiloude." Marguerite finished the croissant. "A warning, though."

"M- Marguerite?" Gilles breathed.

"They will come and kill you." She spoke quietly, her face almost hidden in shadow. "I expect you to do more than survive."

"We'll be in one piece," Gilles assured her. "Since you sponsored my education on top of fending off Psychics once a week, we owe you. Just wait for the good news."

Marguerite smiled. The sight sent bubbles in Gilles' stomach.

* * *

 _ **Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!**_


	5. Epilogue: Apprendre par cœur

_**Voir Dire**_

* * *

 **Épilogue: Apprendre par cœur**

 _Miel Tournesol_ _was arrested for the murder of Théo Martin_ , Sybil told Gilles over breakfast one morning a week later. _And for framing Léa Morelle. Her Klefki was found in possession of the Light Clay, and DNA trace evidence places her on the site, along with a Jungle Pattern Vivillon._

Gilles considered Guignol drinking milk, his hands still on his lap as a croissant floated at his beckoning. "The chances of her spending even a day in prison just plummeted."

 _Something slit her throat. She died before the paramedics arrived._

"See? Not one day in prison." Gilles Moreau commented, casting an eye at the crime scene photographs. Dark feathers left a hint. "Any Murkrow being pulled in?"

 _No Murkrow sighted around that time. I think they hired someone else._

Gilles sighed. "Alright then. Case closed."

 _Will you not investigate further?_

"Not yet, Sybil," Gilles promised. "There's still work to be done."

* * *

 _ **Critiquez, s'il vous plaît!**_


End file.
